


Late

by Youremyalways



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pregancy, adorable bellamy, frustrated Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 18:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youremyalways/pseuds/Youremyalways
Summary: One-shot of Clarke being passed her due date and very frustrated and in pain + Bellamy trying to make it better.





	Late

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah idek what this was I was watching Friends and got this idea and I’m always about Bellamy being all cute and lovey so here we are :)

“I have never been more uncomfortable in my entire life.” She groaned, falling down on the cushion right beside him and leaning back, her protruding stomach high in the air. 

Bellamy sighed sympathetically and pulled her closer to him so her head could rest on his shoulder. He lowered his lips to place a gentle kiss to her forehead before sliding his hand to her stomach, resting his fingers over the bump there. 

“My tits hurt worse than I can even explain,” She grit out with a bitter tone, “I have to pee all the time, it’s the middle of fucking March and I can’t stop sweating, I haven’t slept a full night in days, and my back is constantly on fire.” 

Bellamy could practically feel her pain himself just from the description. He hadn’t slept in a few days either. He couldn’t when he knew she was awake. Instead he softly rubbed her shoulders and traced patterns on her back until her breath evened out. They both woke up numerous times during the night and he despised not being able to pull her tightly into his chest because of her stomach. God, how could something give so much and yet take so much away? Granted, he did love that she was telling him the truth. At the beginning of this, she had a real problem with admitting she was in pain. Clarke wanted to hide it like she did all of her other agony and put on a facade. Bellamy could see through it, so eventually she put it aside. It was refreshing to not have to pull the truth out of her. 

“Clarke-” He started but she immediately cut him off, rolling her eyes.

“If you could switch places with me, you would. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know.” She tucked her head further into his chest. 

Bellamy smiled a little bit, not that he would ever tell her that. It’s just… how could he not be happy when the love of his life was carrying his child and they were so close to being a family? It was adorable the way she pressed into his side and nuzzled her nose against his shoulder, and he couldn’t help the way his heart swelled at the sight of her belly. She was carrying a life. Their baby. And damn right, if he could take all of her pain away and put it on himself, he would do it without a second thought. Unfortunately, that’s just not possible- and it killed him a little bit. 

“I wish it were possible.” He said as much in a hushed whisper, reaching up with the hand not on her stomach to brush the hair out of her face. 

“It’s not.” She bit out with more harshness than he knew she intended, “Everyone keeps telling me about how painful childbirth is. Nobody told me about how painful this is! I’ve never met anyone that was late, Bellamy! Nobody! Why me?” 

God, he hated thinking about childbirth. He really, really hated it. Bellamy watched his mother go through it and clearly remembered thinking she was going to die. It was bloody, and loud, and the most painful thing she ever claimed she went through. All he wanted for Clarke was peace and love and happiness. He hated seeing her in pain. 

He swallowed down his own worries for her sake, closing his eyes and continuing to brush through her gold locks, “I don’t know, baby. I’m so sorry you’re hurting.” 

“I feel like a fucking blimp.” She said without an ounce of humor and Bellamy had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing.

“You aren’t a blimp, Princess.” He smirked a little, thankful she wasn’t looking up, “You are sexier than ever, trust me.” 

“Yeah.” She laughed humorlessly, “Right.” 

“I’m serious.” He reiterated, and he was completely genuine, “You have never been more beautiful to me than right now.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her stomach, “I’m fat.” 

He actually laughed a little before sliding his thumb gently over her stomach to soothe her. 

“You’re pregnant, Clarke. You’re not supposed to be stick thin.” 

She rolled her eyes, “Doesn’t mean I feel good about it.” 

Bellamy sighed and pushed her shoulder a little bit, “Look at me.”

He waited until her eyes were on his to start, “You are carrying our child, Clarke. This,” he rubbed his palm over her baby bump, “is evidence that I love you and you love me. It symbolizes that we want a family together, that we are going to be parents. It’s absolutely beautiful, and it’s all because of you and your gorgeous body. You get to have that symbol Clarke, you get to wear it like a medal- a reminder of what we have and what we’re growing. I think that’s pretty damn sexy.”

Her eyes were watering and his gaze followed her tongue as it slipped out of her mouth and wet her bottom lip. 

She leaned forward and whispered, “I love you so much, Bellamy.” 

He smiled and leaned forward to meet their lips but right before they touched, Clarke’s firm stomach hit his chest and they couldn’t reach.

They. Couldn’t. Fucking. Reach.

Bellamy’s eyebrows raised in shock and Clarke growled. She flipped around and threw her head back against his shoulder, whining as she punched her fist half heartedly against his chest, “I want this thing out of me!” 

He laughed a little, “So now our son is a ‘thing’?”

She sat up suddenly and glared daggers at him. Immediately, he threw his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry.” He muttered, returning his hands to her hair and belly.

She groaned and dropped back down against his chest. 

“This is torture, Bellamy.” She mumbled and the sincerity in her voice made his heart sink, “I want it to be over.”

He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head and sympathized, “I know, beautiful. It’s almost over. And then we’ll have a little boy running around here. Half you and half me, but 100% loved and stubborn and kind. Just keep your eyes on that, okay?” 

Clarke pushed her bottom lip out in a pout as she whined, “I want to kiss you.” 

He laughed softly to himself and whispered, “Stay still.”

She conceded and he slid out from under her, letting her head fall against the back cushion of the couch. She watched him intently as he sat laterally on the cushion beside her and started to lean in, this time his upper body hovered over her chest, not her stomach and their lips met perfectly. She hummed contently against his mouth and reached up to wind her fingers in his thick black hair. He smiled against her as they fell into their regular rhythm of push and pull, lips meeting and parting deliciously. Bellamy was the one to introduce tongues to the mix, slowly dragging his against her bottom lip and granting her access in return. He felt the tension leaving her body through her mouth and thanked God. All he wanted was for her to relax. 

When he finally pulled back and licked his lips, she looked much less tense. 

“Thank you.” She leaned up to peck his lips one more time before repeating, “I love you.”

He smiled again, unable to stop around her. 

“Oh.” She groaned all of a sudden, her face draining of all color and her eyebrows furrowing together tightly. 

Bellamy felt his entire body run cold. 

“Clarke?” His voice cracked, and she already knew what he was asking.

“Hang on.” She bit out and he watched as she slammed her eyes closed and reached for his hand. He let her squeeze it for a few seconds and then she was reopening her eyes. It was the longest thirty seconds of his life. 

“Yeah.” She sighed, her face gaining back some color, “Yeah, that was a contraction.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rocketed up to his hairline, “Wait. Wait, does that mean…” 

She nodded erratically, “Baby’s coming.”


End file.
